


Three in a Serpent's Waltz

by AlmesivaMoonshadow



Category: Cobra Kai, Karate Kid, karate kid 3
Genre: Bisexuality, Biting, Blood Sharing, Bloodplay, Bondage and Discipline, Complicated Relationships, Dom/sub, Eventual Smut, F/M, Initiation, Male Dominants, Masochism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Military Jargon, Military Kink, Other, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Rope Bondage, Sadism, Sexual Roleplay, Sharing Everything Else in General, Shibari, Situational Humiliation, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Verbal Humiliation, cult undertones, female submissive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:49:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29735532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmesivaMoonshadow/pseuds/AlmesivaMoonshadow
Summary: ―Terry Silver and John Kreese decide to initiate you into Cobra Kai. The methods they lean on to accomplish this are hardly orthodox or commonplace.
Relationships: John Kreese & Terry Silver, John Kreese / Reader / Terry Silver
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Three in a Serpent's Waltz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AtmosphericFantasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtmosphericFantasy/gifts).



* * *

You didn't know much about Cobra Kai as such.

Well, not outside the factual basics.

It was a local Dojo that sprung up in the old, rented studio below your first-floor one room apartment practically overnight and you were in an arrangement with the two co-owners. In layman terms, you were sleeping with both Terry Silver and John Kreese and yes, you weren't going to pretend like it wasn't a strange, unexpected arrangement to have at first. Sharing yourself with two such close compatriots. At the same time. There was an almost taboo aspect to it. You realized that. They realized that you realized. It was 1989, but the world outside of the freshly painted, pristine, mirrored classroom they inhibited was hardly progressive enough to accept what you three had, even in LA, of all places. Maybe they wouldn't even begin to understand even if you tried explaining. That's exactly why you didn't. For all those prying eyes concerned, in short, you were merely friends, which in a sense, wasn't untrue. You lied by not lying. Bailed by not actually bailing. You visited them because you were supposedly curious and highly interested in the art of it all, even you truly weren't. But, that was a cover-up story. A cover-up story they personally suggested. Karate wasn't for you. You admired it as such. When done by others. Preformed by others. On others. It was masterful. When performed by Terry or Kreese, it was downright beautiful and mesmerizing. But, it simply wasn't for you. You were fairly content with being a mere observer. A spectator. Watching from the sidelines. Patiently waiting for them to finish their sweat-inducing, strenuous practices and lessons among themselves or their students before you could approach them or spend any quality time with them.

To you, that was Cobra Kai in it's essence.

Just a school.

A place of learning.

An extracurricular activity within the very proximity of your place of residence.

Where the occasional smug, obnoxious kid comes to learn to throw some extra punches.

In order to antagonize some other less smug kid who's less adept in throwing extra punches.

But, of course, the topic did come up, even though you didn't exactly push it;

_-"Ever considered, you know, trying your hand at this?"-_

Terry approached you stretching his forearms with a smile that was positively radiant for reasons you couldn't fathom.  
This wasn't really the first time they offered to teach you with an amazing dosage of enthusiasm.  
You tried quickly swerving the topic - bringing up money as an issue at first, of course.  
Always the best solution, but they quickly negated that, saying it's all for free.  
It's all always for free for you of all people - always extra.  
But you simply didn't feel confident.  
You really weren't confrontational.  
Didn't have the need for self defense as of yet - luckily.  
You weren't athletic.  
This merely wasn't for you.  
And there was no reason other then that.

_-"At what? Oh, at this? Ah, no, no, not for me. I appreciate the offer, though. Thank you, again. You're sweet. But, I'd only waste your time."-_

You nodded your head away with a smile, trying for politeness - you really didn't wish to offend, but you didn't wish to be easily influenced either.

_-"No, not at this. At being a Cobra."-_

John added with an expression more serious then you ever seen him with before, as way of simplifying Terry's question and you were momentarily confused by what he meant.

_-"Being a what?"-_

You chuckled, semi-baffled, for the first time ever while with them in such an intimate setting, slightly nervous.

Now, you weren't going to pretend you didn't know Terry and John were in the army together. That's practically the first thing they brought up about themselves, in passing. You assumed, at first, that, well, maybe, this was some sort of paramilitary unit they were a part of, that later inspired the name of their dojo. Some sort of slang terminology they were fond of using that you didn't quite get a grasp on. Some sort of inside joke between the two of them. Maybe they wanted you to take up classes that badly. Maybe they were legitimately worried for your safety and wanted to equip you with the necessary skills to defend yourself out of care. Out of love. Out of feeling protective. Out of worry for when they're not around and of course, you could almost feel touched by the sentiment. Except, it wasn't about the sentiment. It was about what they actually meant. The way you understood it, they wanted to roleplay and this wasn't new to you. You were together for about a year now and suffice to say Terry by himself was adventurous enough, but paired together with Kreese, well - sometimes, sex with them was very much like theatre. Elaborate. Planned out. Meticulous. Unpredictable. But, this was new. This was something very much in their element. In their field of expertise, even. They wanted to, plainly put have you be the student. You and Terry both. And John Kreese, of course would be the Sensei. You could figure out the rest. You weren't dumb. Of course, the idea, in it's infancy, seemed so amusing that you almost giggled upon their indeed, very detailed and very nuanced explanation. You were willing, of course. But something about it seemed entertaining. Unreal, almost. But, whatever works. You were here to please them as much as they were you. That was the idea behind it, no?

_-"You think that's funny, don't you?"-_

John was in your face within an instant of you chuckling.  
At first you thought this too was a joke of sorts.  
You thought that way too often as of late with them.  
Because some of their behaviours seemed so strange to you.  
So out of place, that you weren't sure what to make of them.  
Unsure of what's real and what's not - laughing as a nervous response.  
But, at least outwardly, he seemed genuinely offended - properly pissed off.

No, no, no.  
You didn't mean it that way.  
It really was done in a well-meaning, innocent manner.

You really didn't want to hurt their feelings.

But, judging by Terry's cold, motionless expression thrown your way from behind of Kreese's shoulder, it seems that you did.

You were on the verge of very profusely apologizing for angering them, or maybe, fairly unknowingly making fun of Cobra Kai as a concept.

You knew this was a sensitive topic, but, never to this cosmic degree and naturally, you hardly had time to even begin doing what you intended the minute John spoke again;

_-"Do we think this is funny?"-_

John looked back at Terry, speaking with a tone so cold and coarse it almost confounded you. You never heard John sound like this before. Not ever. Not with you. Maybe with an unruly student. But, not you.

_-"No, Sensei, we don't!"-_

Terry responded sternly, half-shouting, in a militaristic tone and speaking in plurals.

We.

Who's we?

The two of them?

The three of you in total?

What was going on here exactly?

This was meant to be just a bit of cheeky fun, you understood.

But, sooner then later, you just found yourself oddly frightened and put off.

Out of your comfort zone, out of your element, borderline out of your mind by what John said next;

_-"How do we punish insubordination and disrespect towards our brotherhood?"-_

_-"By striking hard, striking first and showing no mercy, sir!"-_

Terry cited without flaw, hands behind his back, neatly clasped - of course, you knew the Cobra Kai mantra. Their motto.

But, brotherhood?  
Insubordination?  
Disrespect?  
Punishment?  
You were borderline considering turning away and dashing for the door at this point - maybe sleeping with two guys at the same time wasn't a good judgement call on your behalf after all.

Maybe you should've been more cautious.  
Not be easy to fall for charm.  
Pretty words - their whole entire presence.

Did you really know for certain what they were capable of - you saw them fight. That was indicator enough.

_-"Then do as our creed declares."-_

John ordered sternly, leaving you baffled with what he meant and before you could even reason with which way to run or what to do next, Terry Silver was already stalking your way, easily subduing you on the spot. Your limbs, in the ache of primal fear, refused to move on their own accord, and you were instantaneously grabbed, thrown down, and pinned to the floor beneath his knee sharply pushed against your back. Were they really this enraged with you? Were you in for a good beating? What was going on? Why were you so easy on trusting your new neighbours? Why did you let them in so soon? Furthermore, why did you let them into your bed? How did you come to this? What was about to happen? How were you going to escape? You were always told war veterans had the tendency of being a tad bit unhinged even decades after returning home, but you always brushed that off as a wrongful, hurtful stereotype. An oversimplification of a broader issue. But, now, barely breathing, Terry's fingers pushed into your the crevices of you mouth by force - all four of them on one hand at once, his other hand around your throat, squeezing, instantaneously gagging you before you could protest, question anything, call for help, speak, shout or even attempt another apology made you seriously rethink your prior stance on the issue. Fighting it, was naturally, out of the question. You were no match for them, and if you tried to move, the positioning of Terry's leg over your back-bone and spinal cord could easily snap you in half on the spot, rendering you immobile - so maybe they really were mad. Maybe you had a lapse in judgement. Maybe you yourself were equally mad for even allowing this to come this far.

_-"Do we think they're worthy of being initiated?"-_

John leaned down, his face almost on the level of your own pushed against the white training floor-mat in discomfort, while speaking to Terry in more riddles.

Initiated.

Worthy.

You had a feeling this wasn't merely about taking some casual, non-commital Karate lessons anymore.

_-"No we don't. Not yet, Sensei."-_

Terry answered from above you, refusing to drop speaking in multiples and you could feel your limbs starting to shiver. Partially from the sudden stress position you were in, partially because his iron grip was baring down on you ever harder and harder, leaving your breathing rugged and laboured. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how strong the two of them were. Just how strong one of them alone was. You watched them train before, but they made it seem so smooth. So seamless. Fluid. The weight of their bodies never showed. Was never quite as painfully acute as it was now. And they were always so tender with you. Co-ordinated in their gentleness. Careful. Had their occasional rough, playful moments too, but never like this. Never this intense. This was something else entirely and you were almost tempted to bite down on Terry's finger's and at least have the faintest hope of making a dash for the exit somehow while he was disoriented by the act of it. But, this was still someone you were in a mutually agreed upon relationship with. Still someone you cared for. Treasured. That was a last resort you didn't even faintly enjoy thinking about, even now, perish the thought.

_-"And why's that?"-_

Kreese questioned him further on with the hint of a hideously icy, toothy smile that made a deathly chill run down your neck - why on earth was he acting like this?

Your John.

Your dear, sweet Johnny.

What if someone walked in you like this?

_-"They can't defend against an enemy. Anyone who can't defend against an enemy isn't worthy of being called a true Cobra!"-_

Terry proceed invoking his precise recitation a second time and you could practically feel your heart thumping away like an echo deep inside of your head at this point as you meekly whimpered against the gag of his whole hand inside of your mouth, shiny and wet through the warm fluids of your leaking saliva as you struggled to speak and wiggle away from your predicament to the best of your abilities, spotting down looking down at you with an expression that was almost - what was that - fondness? Was that fondness? You expected searing, undeniable anger. Wrath. Rage. Disappointment. Disgust. But, there he was, looking down at you in your embarrassing state with what you could immediately only describe as tenderness.

_-"Can you defend against an enemy?"-_

He asked you, pitilessly and unrelentingly - the sheer tonality of his words clashing with the warmth in his eyes.

And could you?

Could you really defend against anyone?

Was the answer clear, right now, in the flesh.

Was this just an elaborate method for them to show you how much you really did martial arts training?

How wrong you were in dismissing them - in not taking them up on their offer - because if it was, it was working, because you rightfully petrified.

All you could do is mutely nod as way of responding negatively against Terry Silver's harsh grip.

_-"Well, lets see then. We have all the time in the world."-_

And almost as if ignoring you, John added a final line almost in place of a command before you felt Terry's legs moving further down and spreading your own apart - or pushing them apart, more like it and that's when the hideous realization dawned on you like never before. They were about to do it. They really were. And you were uncertain how you felt about it. The arousal in your stomach almost humiliating, but the fear in your gut jittery, palatable and practically protruding as you watched John stand up from where he kneeled down in front of you and walk up to the front door of the dojo, pulling down the shutters one by one until the three of you were left in relative darkness - still enough for you to be terrifying aware of what was happening and seeing too much of it for you own good before he finally pulled out a key from the pocket slit of his sleeveless gi and turned it the keyhole of the entrance with a haunting click that resonated in your ears, locking it firmly shut so nobody could bother you, much to your relief and your agony at large. You weren't going anywhere. All your hopes of escaping shattered there and then.

_-"And you aren't leaving this dojo until I think you're good enough to leave this dojo. And that could take days and days and days by the looks of it."-_

John Kreese added with a frantic smile full of contempt, turning the welcoming card hanging on the door the opposite way, while standing to his own life-size cardboard cut-out, the words -

**Open UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE**

* * *

printed in a simple, utilitarian black and white font alongside the working hours facing your way like a bad practical joke. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't.

Days and days and days?

How long did they plan on keeping you here?

_-"Private Silver, demonstrate how an enemy treats those who are weak and defenseless. Prepare them and take your stance."-_

John instructed and almost upon cue, before you could even to cope with why he was referring to Terry as he was and what he even meant by any of this in the first place, your legs were already apart and your trousers were being slipped down to your knees. A pair of fingers was working through the immediate wetness between your thighs and you swore you heard Terry hiss above your head. Was he displeased with something? Overly pleased? You couldn't tell. You couldn't tell anything about anything at this point and even less so when his arms let go of your neck, mercifully enough, causing you to instantly choke on your own coughing fit due to the sudden intake of oxygen, producing a rope from somewhere instead. You couldn't see. You couldn't think. Least of all perceive what was going on in your immediate peripheral vision, but you were being tied up. Your legs and ankles and arms. If it was hard to slither away beforehand, now it was downright impossible.

My god, you used to sit right there.  
Watch them train - smile at them, make casual small talk.  
Unburdened, un-frightened - it all felt so very natural, so right.  
The two of them, and you between them - never once out of place or strange.  
Never once awkward or uncomfortable - maybe that's why letting your guard down around them was so easy.  
Maybe that's why simply accepting that John Kreese and Terry Silver liked sharing was easily-digestible.  
Maybe that's why it felt good and safe and like coming back to a home you'd didn't know existed.  
And now you were here, in this predicament, unsure what to make of it yourself.  
You wanted it, but you didn't it - but were eager, yet so horrified.  
You wanted it to be over with, but you needed it to continue.  
All thoughts vanishing the minute you felt Terry stretch you out.  
His fingers making room for his own tip as he entered you.  
At that point, there was no more panic.

All you could is moan.

_-"The first time we offered you into Cobra Kai -_

John was right there in the midst of it all, in your ear, talking to you, his voice hot against your lobe.

_-"You should've been honored."-_

The word honor, slipping from his tongue, struck you like the end of a bullwhip. If a word could hurt, this word surely would have. He sounded like he was borderline perturbed. Disturbed at the prospect at the prospect of you choosing to stay on the outskirts of what you merely considered a charming little hobby of theirs - a harmless pastime - a healthy activity to have - a way to waste excess energy - but you couldn't help but notice them acting a bit cult-like on occasion. Almost like a sect. You merely thought you were imagining things. That your mind was playing tricks on you. Baseless paranoia. It was like a third eye you didn't know you had was open. Your suspicions were correct all along. You choosing to stay out of it wasn't merely you not being interested. Perhaps it was your intuition keeping you safe all along.

_-"You should've considered your privileged position. You were being invited. You didn't have to wait. Prove yourself. Train for it. Prepare for it."-_

He proceeded, chastising you, as Terry kept drilling into you from behind and when you couldn't bear to meet his gaze, John grabbed a fistful of your hair and made you look at him.

_-"Now, you'll do all five. Like everyone else."-_

Tears welling in your eyes, you wanted to talk back now that your mouth was free, but you didn't know what to say to all of this.

_-"There will be no nepotism or preferential treatment in Cobra Kai. Not even for you."-_

_-"You - you were talking about free lessons. I didn't even want any. I don't know what all of this is meant to be."-_

You managed through hiccups of pain, barely stringing coherent sentences together, stuttering and stumbling over your own words, trying to justify yourself, justify this situation, justify everything you couldn't afford karate training right now anyway, even if you wanted to, which you didn't, factually. It was out of your budget and you never planned on anything similar in the near future. You weren't a fighter by nature. Your method of defusing confrontation was merely avoiding it and letting it go. But seems like you couldn't let it go. Not now. Not with Terry. Not with John. You were being forced into a physical confrontation.

_-"Free? Nothing's for free. Did you really believe it was going to be for free? Silly."-_

Terry spoke, practically growling, biting into the tender flesh on the back of your neck.

If there was any blood, you wouldn't know - at this point, you weren't lucid enough to register it.

_-"The Cobra's snare. You shouldn't fight it. The venom's part of your blood forever now. And no crying either, he isn't stopping until I order him to stop, doll-face"-_

You could hear Kreese's unusually soft voice reach out to you from the fog of grogginess, exhaustion, stress, arousal, anguish and confusion that overtook your senses and his words paired with the endearment he chose to bestow upon you sounded so surreal, that for a moment, you thought you imagined them being spoken, rather then them actually being spoken, by the time you were flipped over on your back by Terry as easily as if though you weighted absolutely nothing - the rope biting against your skin, at this point, to the verge of actual discomfort, heightened by the exceedingly sensitive state of your body, making you wonder how on earth Terry managed to tie these knots so firmly yet with such expeditious speed in the first place. Was he preparing for this in advance? Or is it merely a skill he possessed way before this? You figured he would've.

_-"What, the actual, fuck, are you two, even talking about, with these weird innuendos and double-entandres. Fuck! What does it even mean!?"-_

You confessed if only slightly irked, you were losing your temper, unable to hold it together at this point

_-"What does it mean? We're making you ours - that's what it means. And language!"-_

Terry added with a certain chastising edge as he tapped your mouth as a way of warning and posturing, as you assumed, for showing blatant disrespect on dojo grounds while he was still inside of you, no less - capital offense - bordering on a slap, yet not quite there in ferocity - eliciting an amused chuckle out of John. _Being theirs._ All things considered, laying on the matted dojo floor beneath them both, filled to the brim, exhausted, gasping, and beyond any breath left in your lungs, unable to move, felt bafflingly satisfactory during a casual Wednesday afternoon. They were messed up individuals with the most peculiar of tastes, Terry and John, you knew that very well by now, in your own way, but then again, why was there an odd, bizarre sense of belonging to all of this? Why did you almost want to thank them for it? Ask for more. Beg for more. And understandingly enough, it had nothing to do with martial arts as a concept as much as it left you the impression you were a part of something. A part of them. Leaking cum from between the slit of your swollen self, all Terry did was give you a knowing smile as he started moving inside of you once again - up and down, up and down - sweat glistering on his focused forehead. They weren't going to cease until you were all spent, properly possessed and done for.

Time for round two.

And round three and four right afterwards, for all you knew.


End file.
